


The Wolf of Ice

by alphatoothless



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 11:22:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1093307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alphatoothless/pseuds/alphatoothless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Omegas have been disappearing in the vast wastelands of snow forests under the command of an ice wolf Alpha in their dreams, and Sherlock and John are put on the case. It isn't until John begins to hear the Alpha that things soon become drastic. (More chapters to come)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The wolf raised his head slowly, his ears perking up at the sound of footsteps nearing him. The trees bristled at the intrusion of another being stepping through their dead branches. The crunching of snow and dead leaves grew closer as the cold wind grew heavier.

“What is this?” The black wolf sniffed the air for a scent-nothing.

The black wolf was suddenly met with the crystal blue eyes of a purely white wolf approached him. Its fur was almost translucent, pure white and covered in snow. Its paws were graceful and delicate, and its entire being almost seemed like it was made of ice and snow. The black wolf stepped closer, careful of every step made toward this fantastic wolf creature in front of him.

“You’re here." 

The white wolf only stared with its soulless eyes, raising its head and turning away and the black wolf could swear he could see antlers made of ice form on its head. It began to walk away, and the black wolf panicked.

“Come back! Wait!” The black wolf hurried to catch up but was met with snow falling and the disappearance of the angelic wolf. No scent was left behind, and the snow hid all footsteps.

The black wolf felt a sudden clenching in his chest, looking down he saw blood and he howled before he toppled over.

 

John Watson stood beside his detective as they stared at the body of Jonathon Wolfram in the snow. It was bloody cold and no one seemed to understand what exactly happened to this Omega wolf. John blinked and moved closer to the human body before him. Impaled, but no weapon was present at the scene. Track marks from the wolf stumbling, but no other tracks were around. Not even a scent was detected. John scratched his head under his hat and took a heavy breath. He looked at Sherlock who scanned through the crime scene once again. Suddenly, the tall Alpha stood up and made his way to John.

 

“The weapon was of ice, hence no weapon being present. That is why there is blood slightly distanced from the body, and it became covered by the snow.” Sherlock looked around again.

 

Lestrade walked up to the scene, having had a long talk with the now-dead Omega’s Alpha.

 

“The only information I really got was that Jonathon had apparently been talking of some Alpha that kept calling to him in his dreams. Some snow wolf.”

John brought his hand to his chin. Snow wolf? In his dreams?

 

“Another weird thing-the wolves around here have been getting progressively worried about their Omegas. Apparently every week another Omega has wandered away from their Alphas talking about this same Alpha wolf calling to them.”

 

“That doesn’t make any sense though, Omegas don’t stray away with another Alpha. That’s not in their biology.” Anderson cut in.

 

“Anderson, this obviously has something to do with a change in the biological structuring of an Omega’s mind, catch up will you? The perpetrator must be using something to get in the Omegas’ minds.” Sherlock snapped.

 

“One of the Alphas apparently has seen this wolf. I’ll bring him here.” Lestrade huffed and walked through the snow again.

 

Sherlock turned back to the body and examined the area around, nothing but blood and snow.

 

“But no tracks. Suicide? No-“Sherlock walked carefully around the body.

 

“There were tracks here at some point. Wolf tracks.”

 

“Do you think it was possibly another wolf in the tribe?” John sniffled and looked into the woods.

 

“Easily enough they could have hid their tracks as the snow kept falling.” Sherlock carefully followed the feint tracks of a wolf.

 

“But these tracks barely touched the ground-something about the way this wolf moved was very careful and yet-it almost seems as if they had to have been holding on trees to make tracks this light.”

 

Wind blew heavily at that moment and the crowd of officers curled up. Wind brushed up against the dead wolf’s fur and suddenly its fur turned grey.

 

“What?!” Sherlock snapped toward the wolf.

 

John lifted his head and suddenly yelped. He grabbed his head and growled.

 

“Come here, my Omega. Come to me.”

 

A glimpse of soulless eyes appeared from the woods, staring into John’s eyes.

 

…

 

A week earlier John yawned as he watched the news half-heartedly. Sherlock stared into his microscope examining bacterium samples.

 

“Sherlock, have you heard this?”

 

Looking up, the Alpha stared at the blond Omega as he pointed toward the screen.

 

“Omegas have been disappearing all throughout the forest regions apparently. A lot of them have been turning up dead in the snow.”

 

“Probably some superiority murderer out for a ride around.” Sherlock went back to his microscope samples.

 

John stared at the screen a little longer. The camera focused on the wolf’s body then to its face. It almost seemed peaceful, hopeful. But for what?

 

“Omegas have been straying from homes across the country-no one seems to know why or how. Nation on high alert. Alphas-please watch your Omegas.”

 

John felt his skin chill. The phone rang then.

 

Lestrade.

 

…

 

“John? John! What’s wrong? John!” Sherlock tried to shout over John’s screams.

 

“Get him out of here!” Anderson yelled.

 

“It’s right there! It’s there! Do you bloody see it? It’s there!” John pulled out his gun and started firing toward the eyes.

 

Everyone dropped to the ground as the fires shot and John unloaded his entire gun.

 

“Shut up! Shut up!” John yelled and clenched his head, dropping the gun in the snow and falling on his knees.

 

“John? What are you hearing? What’s happening?” Sherlock wrapped his arms around John.

 

“Come to me Omega, I will care for you. Come to me, I am your new Alpha. Come Omega, come my Omega.”

 

“Shut up!” John screamed.

 

Sherlock looked up to where John was screaming and his hair stood up.

 

No. What is that? That’s not a wolf. It can’t be.

 

“What are you?” Sherlock felt panic rise in his chest.


	2. An Illusion of the Wolf

John was brought into their hotel, shivering and hoarse. It was there. That was it. He needed to get out of here. He stared at Sherlock who was warming water. That voice. It was cold, it was calm, it wanted.

John felt his muscles shake and he stared at Sherlock. His Alpha. He was his Alpha.  
John closed his eyes. He heard it again.

“My Omega.”   
John shivered and jolted up.

“What happened out there?” Sherlock growled.

“You saw it, didn’t you? You saw the bloody thing. It’s out there. It’s out there and you know it?”

“John, you’re getting manic, calm down!” Sherlock forced john to sit on the bed once again.

John shook his head. Was it possibly his mind making everything up? He needed to relax.

“Get to bed, John. We’re speaking to the Alpha tomorrow. Just relax.”

John just breathed and laid back. Why was he panicking so much? He’d faced worse in war. But something-something about that voice-how it sent shivers down his spine. Those eyes were pure white and its body was like that of a ghost. John inhaled and focused. Body was pure white. Most wolves around these parts were dark furred. It must be from another region. Possibly northern?

“Sherlock, it was a wolf.”

Sherlock looked up from his seat at the desk, his eyes reflecting off the computer light.

“I know.”

“But it wasn’t an ordinary Alpha.”

“It-Possibly it is another illusion from something similar to the Baskerville case. Just calm down John.”

“It wasn’t an illusion Sherlock. I know what I saw. That was a wolf and it called out to me.”

Sherlock paused. He stared at John then, his breathing stilled.

“What did it say to you?”

John closed his eyes and he heard it again.

“Come with me.”

Sherlock looked even more pale than normal as he stood up and walked near his Omega. 

“Do not leave this room, John. And whatever you are hearing, it is not real. Do you understand me? Whatever drug has been put in you, in us, do not let it consume you. Now sleep, John.” John leaned back and curled up in the bed, his mind already beginning to wander.

What about the other Omegas? Where had they gone? Not all of them had been found. What exactly does this wolf want? Why does he want Omegas? Why does he want John? 

He closed his eyes and drifted, the tapping of computer keys lulling him to sleep.

…

John stood in the snow, his wolf form completely warm as he watched a pure white wolf walk toward him. It was angelic, graceful, and its eyes showed no life.

“My Omega, you must come to me.”

“Who are you?” John watched the Alpha wolf smile.

“I am your Alpha, Omega. You are mine, John. Don’t you understand?”

John watched the wolf move closer, it almost seemed like it was hovering, as no snow moved with every step.

“Where are the other Omegas?”

“What other Omegas? There is and will only ever be you.” The Alpha smiled and licked John’s fur on his neck.

John shivered and tried to step away, but something grabbed his shoulder, John snapped back to see the ice wolf snarling, teeth were thing and misshapen, eyes were pupil-less and its tongue was long and snake-like. John whimpered at the now demonic wolf before him.

“My Omega, you have nothing to fear of me, if you come to me nothing will ever hurt you. I am yours just as you are mine. Do not let this other Alpha continue to trick you, he took you from me. You were mine. You are mine.” 

John blinked and the wolf stood before him again, no longer demonic, but cool and angelic, antlers above its head made of ice. Again with graceful beauty, the wolf walked away, but John did not call after it. 

…

“John?”

John blinked awake, gasping as he was in his wolf form on the floor. He raised his head to look at Sherlock on the bed, a worried look on his face.   
John changed back into his human form, holding his head. 

“Come to me.”

John shook his head again. No. No, no he wouldn’t listen. He climbed into bed and Sherlock gave him a worried stare.

“I’m fine-I just had a little bit of a scare.”

“What did you dream of?”

“Peeing myself. Scary dream and all.” John forced a laugh.

“John.”

“Yes?”

“You’re lying to me.” Sherlock’s voice lowered. “What did you actually dream of?”  
John shifted off the bed and stood up, glancing out the window. The second day? The third day? How many days had this thing haunted him?

“I dreamed of the very wolf that every other Omega has seen.” 

Sherlock sighed and sprawled out on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He clasped his hands together and thought.

What he’d seen-it was real. It wasn’t like the Baskerville hound, it wasn’t like anything he’d ever seen before in his life. What he felt, the tugging on his bond with John, this attempt to snap the bond in half-he was fearful. Whatever this was, it threatened to take John with it. Sherlock thought it strange, however, that Lestrade hadn’t been affected yet. Being an Omega, and even weaker with his Alpha in London, Sherlock thought it weird that Lestrade had shown no affects of the strange “Ice Wolf”.   
John had been affected, but seemed to fight off whatever was pulling him. How long would that last though? 

“What was in your dream, John?”

“He told me to come to him. That you’d stolen me from him.” John shivered.  
From the distance, John saw the slow movement of a gentle but horrifying beast as it stared at the window, waiting. 

“You are mine, John. I will not let him take you from me, whatever he is. A crazed Alpha, nothing will take you from me. Now come here and sleep with me.” 

John turned and relaxed. Sherlock, his scent, his Alpha, it was going to be okay. As long as Sherlock was there, he truly hoped everything would somehow work out.


End file.
